


Under Covers

by Star_Trekked



Category: NCIS
Genre: Assassins, Gay married assassins, M/M, Tony is in the closet and so overtly aware of it, Under Covers, married assassins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-07 00:06:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4241805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_Trekked/pseuds/Star_Trekked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony has been in the closet all his life and with no aspirations to get out of it. While he isn't exactly happy to only ever be with men in secret he's content enough. All that will change when an under cover operation requires him to pretend to be happily married to the man he's fancied for the past 12 years. </p><p>Inspired by the NCIS episode 'Under Covers'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Saffello](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saffello/gifts).



> Everything I know about the US is based on TV shows and prejudices from the UK media. So apologies for that, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. I did a lot of googling about the US to make it readable. (Why is Washington DC not in Washington?)

Tony DiNozzo loved undercover work. One would be hard pressed to find an agent in NCIS or any other American Federal agency who loved the thrill of going undercover. Whether he was acting as a drug dealer to gain information on a drug smuggling ring in the Navy or if he was pretending to be a Gunny and flirting his way out of trouble, the thrill of undercover worked agreed with Tony. He had never thought that an offer to work undercover would make him want to vomit.

Undercover work was meant to be an escape from real life; a way to pretend to be someone else. To be someone with different dreams and passions. Someone with a different reality. It was not meant to make you fear that your secrets would be revealed. Tony doubted anyone would really care. They were used to him shagging anything wearing a skirt, adding ‘just anyone’ to it shouldn’t be a huge deal but this was America. Everything is okay as long as you’re a straight white man. He was scared of giving that up. Working for the Baltimore, Peoria, and Philadelphia PD’s and NCIS had shown him what happened to people without that privilege. Kate’s reaction to him kissing a transwoman was bad enough and had set him up for 10 years of being steadfastly locked in the closet. 

Coming out as bisexual had never been an option. Just because it was legal and he could legally marry a guy doesn’t mean it wasn’t dangerous. When he was working for the Philadelphia Police Department he could have been fired for being bisexual. He’d known hundreds of homophobes over the years too, homophobes who could at the very least make his life miserable with the comments. At the worst he did not doubt that some would have had any problems ‘accidently’ shooting him. 

Called up to MTAC with the keywords ‘undercover’ and ‘special case for the director’ had originally made Tony pretty excited. He’d raced up the stairs in front of a chuckling McGee and and a bemused Gibbs. Ziva had just raised an eyebrow in the slightly terrifying way that reminded Tony that it had not been all that long ago that she was a professional assassin. 

He slid into MTAC trying to keep his excitement under wraps but he couldn’t help grinning at Director Vance and bouncing on his heels and McGee came to stand beside him, just far away enough that he wouldn’t be caught by any flailing arms. Gibbs and Ziva stood a little further away, directly in front of the Director, awaiting their assignments.

“I’m glad you look so excited DiNozzo, you’ll be in the centre of this case.” Vance said, a slight smile on his face. 

“Undercover work. I love undercover work, you know how much I love undercover work, boss.” his head slightly turned towards Gibbs and he was grinning like a child. Approaching 40 he was still a big kid. Kate had once summed him up perfectly as an ‘X-rated Peter Pan’. 

Gibbs humored the Special Agent with a smile. “How about you get excited after you hear the damn case, DiNozzo.” If he had been closer he would have expected a head slap from his boss; as it was he took an unconscious step away from him to avoid the sting of a hit. He walked straight into McGee, whose hand touched his waist to avoid a more damaging collision. Tony felt the fizzle of excitement at the point of contact. He slightly leant into McGee’s hand before reprimanding himself and stepping away.

“Careful McHandsey.” he said, being sure to not look at Tim. No one could know of the highly inappropriate affection he felt for his colleague. He couldn’t help but act like a teenager with a crush whenever he was around the man. He had lasted 12 years without anyone guessing, and the awful crush had lasted as long as he’d known the younger agent. It had started out small, an ignorable attraction to the once shy and nervous probie, and was now all but one step away into painful unrequited love. He’d kept the charade up for 12 years and all he needed to do was keep it up until he either moved to another team or retired. Except whenever he was offered another he declined and he couldn’t keep pretending it was because of Gibbs. He wanted to be close to his Probie. 

The agents in MTAC rolled their eyes and focused their attention on Leon. Tim had taken another careful step back, to avoid arm flailing and being stepped on whenever Tony avoided getting smacked. 

“As I was saying,” continued the Director. “I have a special assignment for you all. Yesterday two known assassins were found dead. On them were papers which lead the FBI to believe that their next targets were Navy. We don’t know who those target or targets are, neither do we know who has employed them. Their laptops were sent down to Abby and between her and the forensics team at the FBI we have come to understand that there is to be a meeting between the assassins and their employer next week. We believe that they have not already met”

It was left unsaid that two of the agents would be acting as the assassins. Tony straightened, hoping to be picked as one of the agents, he knew he had more chance if both assassins were men. He was eager to not be one of the two agents doing background work. They had undertaken a mission like this before, many years ago when there was still sexual tension between himself and Ziva. Something which he wish he still had, it would be far simpler than the ever growing infatuation with McGee. 

“Who are the assassins?” asked McGee, bringing Tony back to Earth.

“Christopher and Robert Hall.” No one in the room had heard of them. So known, but not on any major watch lists. Military targets must have been a new thing for the pair. Tony shuffled a little in his excitement, he had a far better chance of deep undercover work with ZIva out of the picture.

“Brothers?” McGee asked.

“Husband’s. You and DiNozzo will be taking them on. The both of you will be in the hotel which the client, known as ‘Mr Flores’, has chosen to meet in for 3 days. We believe the target will be high profile so I expect the room will be bugged.”

Tony took in a sharp intake of breath. Pretending to be McGee’s husband, and sharing a room let alone a bed with him was going to be nigh on impossible. He could barely keep his hands off the man now, sharing a bed and pretending to be in love with the younger agent could end everything he had been trying so hard to erase. 

“Is there a problem DiNozzo?” The director asked, frowning at the agent. DiNozzo grimaced, feeling as if everybody in MTAC including the agents running the computers bordering the room now thought he was a homophobic asshole. 

“Do not tell me that you are a homophone, Tony?” Ziva confronted him, frowning. Tony had always been very liberal and this sudden hesitation surprised everyone. 

“N-No.” The sudden stutter and nervous laughter he had developed was not helping his cause as he forgot to point out Ziva’s mistake. “Just I don’t think this is the kinda job for me. Maybe Gibbs should do it? Gibbs would be great!” He nervously grinned at his boss.

“Don’t you think I’m a little old to be playing McGee’s husband?” Gibbs asked, pointing out the obvious. Gibbs usually didn’t miss anything and he knew DiNozzo wasn’t homophobic, so he was unsure why he had suddenly developed a hesitation to it. 

Tony refused to turn around and look at the subject of his crush. He couldn’t bare to see the look of disappointment across the man’s face. He knew that McGee was a strong proponent of LGBT rights and had plenty of friends who were gay. Thinking that his friend was homophobic would hurt him, and Tony never wanted to be the cause of any of Tim’s pain. 

“No, boss. It’s fine, I’ll do it. If that’s still okay?” He turned to the Director to ask his question, knowing that he was the man with the final decision. 

The Director nodded and turned to the rest of the team to set out the plan for the mission. With such a short time frame to prepare in it was important for every detail to be memorised. Tony dared to glance at McGee who was now slightly behind him. He was staring at Tony with a look that Tony couldn’t quite translate. It seemed a little like, regret, disappointment, and the look you get when you realise someone you thought you knew well is not who you thought they were. 

~Tony~Mcnozzo~Tim~

Bags packed and in the trunk of the car, DiNozzo and McGee had been equipped with expensive looking suits and an arsenal of weapons suitable for assassins. The majority of which would be kept in the car; locked away as to avoid suspicion for anyone watching them.

McGee had been quiet for the past few days, probably still upset at Tony’s poor timing of gay panic. He hoped that the next few days he’d have a chance to prove that the reluctance he had felt was nothing more than shock, at the same time not revealing his true reasons. They had a few hours drive to Charlottesville, where their client had booked a room for them in an inn which they had been assured was the best in the area. Stuck in traffic on the I66, Tim had hardly said a word. Tony wasn’t sure if he was angry with him or disappointed, he wasn’t sure what was worse. Finally Tim spoke.

“Twelve years today.”

“What?” Tony was disappointed with his lack of eloquence. The first time McGee had started a conversation with him in 3 days and the only thing he could say was ‘what’. 

“Twelve years to the day since we met.” Tim clarified, looking away from the road to gauge Tony’s reaction.

“You remember the day we met?” His mouth was hanging open, gobsmacked that Tim would remember. That was before he even became a probie with MCRT, just a rookie agent who’d thrown up at his first taste of fieldwork. Tony remembered the day well. 

“Yeah, first day I met Gibbs and the day I knew I wanted to work with MCRT. You don’t forget the first day you meet Gibbs.” Tim chuckled at Tony, whose face had spread into a smile. He was smiling but his heart had dropped into his stomach. For a second, just for a second, he’d thought that maybe it had something to do with him. Maybe he’d had left just a fraction of the impression on Tim that Tim had left on Tony. He felt the bitter twist of disappointment low in his stomach, and the heat of shame, that he’d let himself believe it, in his chest. 

Tony turned away, towards the window looking out at the halted traffic. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

Tony cheered up as the traffic started to move again, and Tim had become more talkative. They were back in the their usual state of teasing friendship. The situation would never be perfect, not for Tony, but this was as best as it could possibly be. Two friends sharing laughter being as close as possible, and Tony got to pretend that it was something more, just for a few days. He’d make the most of it. It would kill him slowly but the closeness it afforded him may have been worth it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's been so long, I've been ridiculously busy. I now have a tablet so there is no excuse for when I'm on the move; chapter 3 should be up much quicker. I've been overwhelmed by the support of this fic on both ff.net and AO3. Thank you all so much.

The agents pulled up outside of the Peacock Inn with grins on their faces. The long driveway revealed green fields, a gorgeous pond, and a glimpse of an outdoor swimming pool. The buildings which made up the Inn gave the place a Georgian feel. Stone and wood made up the hotel, each room appeared to have a large balcony coming off of it. 

“Come on then, Darling.” Tony dared to say as he got out of the car, throwing a wink at the other agent. 

Tim rolled his eyes as he grabbed the bags apparently forgotten by his partner. He placed the adapted hearing aid in his ear. Christopher Hall had been hard of hearing which gave NCIS the perfect opportunity for a point of contact between the agents and NCIS headquarters back in DC. Tony was checking them in when Tim lugged the bags into the lobby. Tim noticed the fake smile on Tony’s face as he tried to talk to the receptionist who didn’t seem pleased that two men would be sharing the same room. A porter came and placed the bags onto the luggage trolley, smiling at the men pleasantly before giving the receptionist a scowl. Tim decided to tip him well. 

“Now to start acting the loving husband, McGee.” Vance said in his ear. It prompted him to put an arm around Tony’s waist, which Tony leant into, turning to face McGee. NCIS had no eyes in the hotel, a drawback from the client booking the hotel room, you couldn’t get agents in when no one knew if the client had connections, so Vance had no idea what the agents were doing to keep up the act.

“A suite, Chris.” Tony said, smiling at him, putting on a show for the employees at the hotel. With cases like this it was impossible to tell who was employed by who and slip up could be costly. “Our client must like us.” 

The older man’s cheeky grin always made Tim’s heart beat just a little bit faster. A few days of pretending to have what he’d wanted for a while now would be a nice reprieve from faking every moment he was with Tony. With that in mind, he tightened his grip on Tony’s waist, and turned to face the receptionist. 

The woman slid across the key to their suite across the desk, a smile as fake as the assassins in front of her. “Suite 315” she said, her voice reminding Tim of the too high voice of women on the MMORPG’s he played. “I hope you enjoy your stay at Peacock Inn.” 

The men left quickly, Tim’s hand had gone from Tony’s waist and they both felt the loss sharply. Tony grabbed Tim’s left hand in his right, interlocking their fingers. The cool metal of the wedding ring on Tim’s finger felt just right between Tony’s own fingers. As if it belonged there. His own wedding ring was heavy on his finger. It felt like it should be there, but served as a reminder that this wasn’t real. He wasn’t married, and certainly not married to Tim. After the next few days they would never touch as intimately as they were again.

Opening the door to the suite, they both walked in looking a little amazed. 

“Nice.” Tony exclaimed, walking around the living room, his usual grin was once again spread across his face.

“Wow, this is bigger than m- our apartment building!” Tim exaggerated slightly and hoped no one had heard his slip up. 

The porter smiled at the both, placing their bags besides the sofa. “That’s the usual reaction.” he said smiling at the pair. Tim breathed a sigh of relief that at least the porter had noticed his slip up. “I hope you enjoy your stay, Sir’s. If you need anything please don’t hesitate to call reception.” The man left, a fair wad of cash clutched in his fist, Tim being slightly over generous in his tipping. 

The director’s voice came over the headset, Tim touched the earpiece to show Tony that he was being spoken to. “We don’t know who this ‘Mr Flores’ is but if he’s after someone in the military he’s got to be ambitious. Probably powerful. We’re expecting you to be being watched. Act the loving husbands, but don’t forget you’re trained killers. I’ll update you tomorrow.” Tim nodded as if Vance could see what he was doing, and switched the headset off. He couldn’t take it out, if they were being watched talking to Tony without it would cause suspicion. 

He walked towards his partner, placing one hand on his waist and the other behind his neck, gently pulling Tony down, so his lips were ghosting Tony’s.

“Act as loving husbands and trained assassins. We’ll get an update tomorrow.” he whispered loud enough that Tony could hear him but not so loud that any bugs could pick the words up. 

Tony nodded, leaning down to kiss Tim. He pressed his lips against the other agents, savouring the taste and the feel. Biting Tim’s bottom lip slightly, he pulled the man closer to him. They kissed deeply for what felt like forever before breaking apart and panting. Slightly embarrassed, but neither wanting to show it they parted and walked into the bedroom. Reasoning that the kiss, even one that intimate was all a disguise. Neither fooled themselves that on their parts it was anything less than what they wanted.

“Wow.” Tim said, looking around the room. A large king size bed sat in the centre of the room, large Georgian-style wardrobes and a dresser were pressed against the side of the room. Despite the large furniture there was still plenty of room to walk around in.

“Yeah, wow.” Tony agreed, a grin back on his face. “Look at this bed!” he stretched out across the sheets, head resting in the centre of a pillow. “All it needs is a ceiling mirror.”

They both paused. Ceiling mirror implied sex. Sex between the two of them. 

"For God's sake, Robert." McGee said, remembering to smile fondly as if deeply in love. If asked he'd have said it was a great effort. In truth the only difficulty was remembering to say the agent's alias. 

Tony patted the mattress next to him inviting the younger agent to join him. Tim obeyed, clambering up beside the man, lying a little closer than necessary on the large bed. He told himself it was because of the job, because Intel suggested that Robert and Christopher Hall were being watched, that this Mr Flores could be suspicious of the nature of their relationship. Tony slid an arm around his Probie's shoulders taking Tim's left hand in his own, playing with the wedding ring on Tim's finger. 

They talked for the rest of the evening, not moving except to order room service. There conversation was natural, teasing, slightly flirtatious. Using the names of the assassins they portrayed provided the only stall in conversation. They kept the conversation neutral, unable to speak about their work and reluctant to speak about assassinations; wanting for one night to be Tony and Tim, not Christopher and Robert. They fell asleep with smiles on their faces, wrapped up in each others arms. Each oblivious to the others happiness, both indulging in the fortune of being together for this operation. 

~Tony~McNozzo~Tim~

They awoke limbs tangled together, bed sheets somehow only covering Tim. Tim's face was nestled in the company crook of Tony's neck. Both were reluctant to be fully awake, content in their dreams. They were slightly embarrassed at the position they had landed themselves in; McGee's leg was slung across DiNozzo's waist, and the senior agents hand rested against his Probie's arse.

Finally Tim rolled off of his fake husband and inserted his hearing aid. 

"Agent McGee. Glad you're finally awake." The voice of the Director travelled into McGee's ear, disturbing his peaceful domestic fantasy. 

"What time is it?" 

Tony muffled something into his pillow giving the scene the look that the two assassins were speaking to each other. 

"Ten-thirty." Replied Vance, McGee could practically hear the disapproving glare. 

"Shit." 

"Indeed. I suggest you wake Agent DiNozzo up and show yourselves to the hotel. Intel leads us to believe that the owner and the head of security , possibly several other members of the security team and the receptionist are on the payroll. However, without the knowledge of who Mr Flores is we can't be sure."

"Yes Sir." Tim said before hearing the line cut dead.

He leant over Tony's back, who was now lying on his stomach, face planted into his pillow. All of this leaning to whisper Vance's instructions into Tony's ears was killing him. The intimacy was addicting and he didn't know if when this charade ended he would be able to pull himself out of it. 

"Come on, it looks like we're being watched. Owner and the head of security, most likely, but a few of the security team too, maybe the receptionist. It's time to show yourself off." Tim knew that DiNozzo loved that kind of thing, fooling the world into believing that he was the real deal. If he didn't love the thrill of the chase and the complex puzzles surrounding cases, Tim was sure that DiNozzo would have been an actor.

Tony flipped himself over, not enough to move McGee from his position above him. His t-shirt had lifted up enough to show the strong muscles beneath, hidden a little by the fat that revealed his age; something that DiNozzo didn't like think about. Their noses were now touching, McGee having gotten a little closer than he realised when he'd whispered into DiNozzo's ear. He couldn't help but kiss the man who was sleepily grinning beneath him. He knew he couldn't defend the action with excuses of pretending to be a married couple. He was acting more like they were on their honeymoon that they were on a business trip.

"What was that for?" DiNozzo asked, sounding a little confused with a touch of an emotion that sounded to Tim's hopeful ears like pleasure. 

"Just like you beneath me, Robert." Tim said, he hoped that the was enough of a recovery for both Tony and whoever was watching them, if anyone was watching them. 

McGee rolled off of Tony and the bed, jumping into the shower. The water sprayed down onto his torso as leant his head against the cool tiles.

"What am I doing?" He asked himself, not minding his face being sprayed with hot water. He stayed like that for several minutes before washing, no answer having come from the shower. He resigned himself to enjoying what little time he was getting with DiNozzo, taking advantage of the situation he had found himself in. He knew the heartbreak would come later.

When the men were both ready they left the suite to enjoy the day. They were unsure what they were supposed to do, what this Mr Flores expected the Hall's to be doing with their freedom and why they had been giving three days at the suite when a dinner to discuss their business would suffice. 

As they walked into the foyer the receptionist, the same one as the day before called them over, yet another sickly sweet smile on her face. 

"Mr and Mr Hall, there is a message for you." Her voice was just as high and grating as the day before and Tim wished that turning off his hearing aid would do something to block out the noise. 

"Mr Flores would like you both to join him in the main dining room at 8 O'Clock tonight." She smiled brightly at the pair, as if waiting for a reply but they all knew it was not a request.

"Thank you-" Tony squinted at the name tag on the receptionist's chest. "Georgina," He gave his most charming smile. "Please tell Mr Flores we'll be there." 

They left to sit further into the large foyer, they could feel Georgina's eyes on them. They didn't sit too far away in case Vance's suspicions were correct. 

"Do you think tonight's the night?" McGee asked.

"That he'll tell us who the vic' is? Yeah."

"Any ideas, SecNav or someone lower down the centre of command?" 

Tony shrugged, shifting himself to get a good view of the receptionist, if she was a spy, or a set of eyes, she wasn't a particularly subtle one. She was still sending daggers at the pair. 

"Kiss me." Tony demanded.

"Huh?" 

Tony placed his hand in Tim's lap and leant forward to whisper into Tim's ear. 

"We don't know if the receptionist is a spy or just a homophobe. Kiss me, see her reaction, we might have more of an idea. I'm guessing she's just homophobic, that or Mr Flores is in need of a better set of eyes." 

Tim chucked, leaning in to reach Tony's lips. One hand reached up to meet his neck, pulling the taller man down so their lips were touching. Both men closed their eyes, failing in their mission to gauge the receptionists response. Both lost in the kiss they did not notice the woman scowling at them, her finely coiffed blonde hair standing on end, until they had stopped kissing.

"Guess that answers that question." Tony said. Tim looked over his shoulder, laughing as he saw the woman's face turn an unattractive shade of red. 

They both grinned at the woman, hoping that if she did happen to know who they were supposed to be then she was frightened enough to leave them be.


	3. Chapter 3

Tony and Tim spent the rest of the day sorting out who were spies and who were not, and they had gotten nowhere. It was difficult to sort out who was watching them when everyone in the hotel seemed to find them interesting. Maybe it was because they were gay but Charlottesville wasn't known as a particularly homophobic town. It was more likely that they were still acting as if they were on their honeymoon. A few members of staff and guests grinned at them whenever they passed; probably thinking that they were. Ever kiss and touch of affection was accompanied with an indulgent grin. It was obvious that they were newly together, as if they were only just allowed to touch, not like they had been married for the past five years. Both DiNozzo and McGee could feel that they were indulging a little too much, but with no one from their work around an excuse to touch each other they were reluctant to ease up on the public displays of affection. 

The staff they had singled out as possible suspects were almost impossible to confirm. Any supposed evidence they had was compromised by the fact they didn't know who they were looking for. It was difficult to find spies when you didn't know who they were spying for. All they had was who they were spying on. Tracing a lead backwards was always more difficult than forwards? If they knew who the spies were they could figure out who Mr Flores was and what he wanted. They'd settled on having to wait until their dinner this evening. They could only hope that they were the only assassins that 'Mr Flores' had in mind. The last thing they needed was a bidding war between mercenaries. 

The owner, who Vance had singled out as a possible spy, of at least some sort of accomplice to the assassins client, had not shown their face. The agents believed that he was probably spying on them from behind the scenes. Cameras and audio were probably in their suite. They had done a quick sweep that morning, but didn't want to raise too much suspicion so had not disturbed anything more than obvious hiding places. 

"You ready?" Tony asked, adjusting his tie and making a few tweaks to his hair.

Tim sighed, brushing off lint from the expensive suit the director had given him. "Ready as I'll ever be." He had never been as much of a fan of going undercover as Tony was. Tony was always confident, content in his role as a mercenary. Tim was not as sure. Half of the time he wasn't confident with his role as Timothy McGee NCIS Agent, let alone pretending to be someone else.

Tony couldn't deny he was nervous as well. Although he acted confident he had more than the usual buzz of nerve before an undercover assignment. Before an undercover op he usually had more details than he did now. He knew only who the mercenaries had been, and that the target was Navy. Nothing more and that worried the senior agent. He usually knew who he was meeting. All he had was a name, possibly an alias.

They walked side by side to the dining room, barely touching. The Maitre d’ was a tall woman who was willowy in a way which reminded Tony of the cartoons you got in newspapers. The type of woman he usually went for even when they scared him a bit.

“Mr Flores has a tabled booked for you by the window. I’m sure he will arrive shortly. If you’ll follow me please.”

She led them to a small table set for three, a reserved sign sat by a vase of flowers, both of which she removed as the agents sat next to each other. They nodded their thanks as she assured them that a waiter would be with them soon. 

They sat quietly until they saw the Maitre d’ walk towards them once more with a man they could only presume was ‘Mr Flores’. He was short, far shorter than either of them had expected, with blonde hair swept back from his face, blue eyes which would have been attractive in the man if their wasn’t something so unsettling about them. McGee and DiNozzo stood up in greeting as Mr Flores reached the table. The Maitre d’ silently bowed out.

Flores signed something to McGee. A flaw in their plan. The hearing aid had made NCIS sure that no one would try to speak to McGee through sign language. Without Abby or Gibbs there it was impossible to translate. He knew that Gibbs and Ziva were around somewhere, probably staking out the hotel, as far away as possible to reduce suspicion, but with no direct visual connection they were stuck. 

“Don’t worry I’ve got my hearing aid in, no need to sign.” Tim improvised, pointing to the device in his ear.

Flores followed his hand with his eyes and grinned. “Well thank the heavens for that, I know my signing is mediocre at best.” his accent was thick; his voice smooth, as if used to people who paid him attention and did everything he told them to do. 

McGee smiled, hoping that what Flores had signed was just a greeting. “You’re fine.”

They all sat down, the agents next to each other, thigh touching thigh. Flores placed himself at the centre of the table, adjusting his chair so he sat facing directly between the two agents. He was still grinning, his elbows on the table, hands clasped together. Confident and in control. 

“I hope you are enjoying your stay at this fine establishment.”

“We are. Thank you, it is a gorgeous hotel. I must say the suite you put us in is divine. You know the owner?” Tony asked. Tim could sense he pulling out all his charm to keep one step ahead of the man in front of them. It was the type of charm Tim hated to see in the senior field agent. A charm that many liked in Tony but Tim could sense it wasn’t real. The charm was never genuine and sent unpleasant shivers down his spine.

Their client laughed like something was funny. It tinkled across the room, yet did not disturb any other guests. “Oh my dear boy.” he said, despite not being much older than Tony. “I own it.” His never ending grin seemed to widen and the knowledge that this man owned the hotel set both the agents on edge. He was evidently rich, that much could be seen by the quality of the hotel. Rich often meant powerful, it also meant that everyone they had met was under the payroll of Flores. 

“You must be very proud.” Tim could sense the snarkiness in Tony’s voice and lightly kicked him under the table. The last thing they wanted to do was upset him. They needed information on him and who the target was. That way a protection detail could be set up, and arrests could be made; accomplices could be found and they could shut this down. 

“So, Mr Flores.” Tim tried to distract them both in an effort to get what they had come for. 

“Gabriel, please.” Tim hoped with the name Gabriel Flores and the information that he was the owner of the Peacock Inn that Abby would be able to find enough information on the man, to find any accomplices or possible leads before they inevitably took him in. 

“We’re led to believe that our target is Navy?”

Flores’ wide grin relaxed a little, yet the smile did not stop. “Yes, but lets not talk about business just yet and enjoy our meal.” He leant back in his chair, snapping his wrist so that both the Maitre d’ and a waiter came rushing over. 

“Matthew, please take my guests orders, whatever they want, of course. And our finest bottle of wine for the table.” 

He took their orders quickly, a muttered ‘Yes, sir.” and the young man scurried off, evidently relieved to be away from the table. 

So his staff were scared of him. Tony filed that information away for later, sure that it would later come in handy for questioning suspects. It would either mean people would be afraid to talk, or that they wanted the man in prison, as far away from them as humanly possible.

Flores leant up towards the Maitre d’ who bent her willowy figure at the waist to listen to him. 

“Clear the room.” He did not whisper as his body language had suggested, but neither was he loud. His voice was clear and crisp. An unsettling command. They were far enough away from the other guests, and the room was busy enough that no one would be interested or be able to hear enough of their conversation to cause worry. That meant he was planning something that he didn’t want witnessed. That or he was overly cautious. They could only hope it was the latter.

 

They all waited in silence. Flores seemed relaxed, one arm resting on the back of the chair next to him as he leant back, that inane grin still infuriatingly resting on his face. The federal agents opposite him were entirely different. Backs straight, nerves jumping in the pit of their stomachs. The waiter came over balancing the food on his wrists and hands. Placing Flores plate down with extra care, Matthew gave a tight smile which only the agents returned. He was entirely ignored by Flores. The Maitre’ d was quickly and silently removing the guests from the dining room, none of whom were making a fuss.

The owner began to tuck into his food. 

“You do not speak sign language.” The statement was directed to both of them, the words were spoken conversationally. No hint of a threat in his tone. 

The agents were unsure of how to respond, it would be a lie to say they had no need for it. Ducky estimated that the hearing aid had not long been in use, that both men would have used sign language on a day to day basis. It was a mistake, one that NCIS was not prone to making.

“Do you want to know what I said?” The men did not reply, everyone at the table knew that he would tell them whether invited to or not. 

“You are not Christopher Hall.”


	4. Chapter 4

The room was silent. The accusation hung in the air, like a tension that was about to snap. Everyone knew it was true, so there was not much point in denying it. They were not Christopher and Robert Hall, it was a last minute cover to try and prevent an assassination. The cover was not deep, certainly not deep enough to last questioning. They knew nothing about who they were impersonating and Flores realised this.

Tony sat back and chuckled softly. Tim relaxed. Tony was calm and cool under pressure. He'd get them out of here alive. Tim completely trusted his partner, he'd banter with Flores, play for time as Tim figured out how to get the out of there. He'd already figured it out too, they just needed time. Time for Vance to get the word out to Ziva and Gibbs. Tim hadn't turned his hearing aid off so all they needed was for the two agents to come in with a pair of handcuffs and guns. For now they had to concentrate on Flores not shooting his. 

"Well clever ol' you." Tony sneered, tilting his head to the side. "You might as well tell us why we're here then, I'm presuming you won't be letting us out of here alive." Tim cringed, there was a possibility that was true but he was confident that the boss would be here any minute and wouldn't let that happen.

Flores stood up, walking around the table and pacing behind the two agents. Tying them up with rope. It was cliché. Done in a hundred movies, all of which Tim was sure Tony could name. The man had taken his gun out, playing with it in his hands. He amused himself by occasionally putting the cold metal against the back of one of their necks, laughing before he removed it.

"First tell me your names." He said moving so that he was in the agent's eye line. "I know you are FBI."

"NCIS actually." Tony corrected, he could never keep his mouth shut. Let the credit go to someone else. It was a constant disappointment to DiNozzo that NCIS were not more firmly on the map as a well known federal agency. He also hoped, that by keeping up a conversation with Flores that their lives would last just a little bit longer. Rule number one of being held hostage: keep them distracted. He wished that him and McGee hadn't left their weapons in the boot of the car. Rule 9 never go anywhere without a knife. Gibbs would kill them.

"Tim McGee and Tony DiNozzo." Tim answered, there was no point in lying. Giving a little of information to Flores could get them more information about him. If Virginia prosecuted Flores he could get life for conspiracy to murder. They could already arrest him for conspiracy to commit murder, and two counts of assault against federal agents.

"If you know we're federal why are we here? Why didn't you cancel the meeting?" 

Flores laughed again. "Not so smart for Federal Agents, are you? I orchestrated the whole thing." He sat back down, his chair further away from the table where the agents still sat. He pulled the table away from them, plates and cutlery and half finished food rattled, so there was now nothing between them. He rested the hand holding the gun against his knee. It waved slightly as it balanced.

"I killed the Hall's. Well my boys did." Accomplices. Tim filed away that information away for later. "But what's really the difference?" 

Tony's snark answered rather than his sense of self preservation. "The death penalty."

McGee breathed a sigh of relief when Flores laughed. Tony would live a little longer if he could control his words.

"They betrayed me you see. Decided to double cross me. I wanted them to kill a rival for me. A fellow business owner who had been doing a little better than I wanted to allow, so I wanted to send a warning to other businesses in the area. They are here to please me. Except he decided to pay them more money to kill me. So they had to be dealt with. I don't usually like my men killing. It's distasteful, don't you think? Surrounding yourself with murderers. I much rather them be used to intimidate. But it was necessary."

The cliché monologuing had given McGee a chance to loosen his bonds. He kept the rope clutched in his hands, not dropping it until he had the advantage. They needed more information from him first.

"That doesn't explain why we're here. Why did you set this up?"

"Don't you understand Tim?" Tony growled at the man. He wanted very few people to call the man Tim. "This gave me the perfect opportunity. I am not fond of the FBI. I was confident that the FBI would figure out that the Hall's death was linked to me,and with no way of hiding my tracks I decided to take as many agents as possible out. Targeting a member of the armed forces was a sure fire way to get the FBI's attention. Send a couple of emails. Set up a few days for two agents to come along. Watch them pretend to be together, I might as well get some humour out of this. Kudos to both of you, by the way. If I didn't know better I'd say you were in love. I wasn't just going to wait to get arrested. Unfortunately you two came along. But what's the difference in Fed's, really?"

"You're a psycho." Tony said, same snarky grin on his face. 

"And you talk too much." 

Flores cocked the gun, resting it on Tony's forehead. Tim reacted, knowing that there was not enough time. He dropped the ropes that had previously tied his wrists and leapt at the man threatening Tony. His hand grabbed Flores' wrists as they wrestled, the gun jostling between them. Tony sat wide eyed, unable to do anything but attempt to loosen the ropes that bound him to the chair. Tony could not see the gun as it moved between the two bodies, both squished tightly together. The door flew open, Ziva and Gibbs pointing their guns at Tim and Flores tussling together. In the commotion the gun fired. For a second Tony didn't know who had been shot. Thought perhaps that the bullet hadn't hit either of them. Until he saw McGee fall and both his boss and Ziva run over to arrest Flores who had dropped the gun. He heard someone screaming, not realising who it was until he felt his mouth hanging open and his wrists fighting against the ropes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry. A second cliff hanger and it's been ages since I uploaded.


	5. Chapter 5

Time seemed to stop as Tony watched the man he loved bleed out. As soon as Gibbs cut the rope binding Tony to the chair, he was pushing Ziva out of the way and kneeling next to Tim. He shrugged his dinner jacket off, holding it against the open wound in Tim’s stomach in an attempt to slow down the bleeding. McGee was fading in and out of consciousness; barely noticing Tony muttering comforting words above him. 

“An ambulance is on its way.” Ziva said to the room, putting her phone back in her pocket. She made eye contact with Gibbs, silently communicating her confusion at just how worried Tony seemed to be. It was usual for Tony to worry over his Probie, especially when he was injured; but this seemed different as if they were closer than Senior Field Agent and his first probie. 

“How did you know what I was doing? Who is spying for you? Is it Ahmed? Ellen? That bitch!” Flores was ranting and raving, handcuffed tightly in the corner of the room. Gibbs held him back, jostling him far more than necessary. He signalled for Ziva to go and wait for the ambulance.

“He’ll be okay, Tony. He doesn’t have permission to die.”

Tony would have smiled. If he was his usual self he would have given a chuckle, but the past few days had changed him. Living with Tim, kissing him, acting as if they were really together had made everything so much harder. He’d spent the last twelve years trying to hide his feelings, pretending that any crush on Timothy McGee was just friendship and a close working relationship. But now he couldn’t do that. If someone asked him if he was in love with Tim, he didn’t think he’d be able to lie. It was true and to say that it was a lie would probably hurt him just as much as the knowledge that he would never be with him. 

 

Paramedics came rushing into the room, a stretcher between them. Phrases like “Possible organ damage” and “risk of infection” went over his head as Ziva gently led him away from Tim’s body. Now, was the one of the few times in his life that a doctor had walked into the room and he was glad it wasn’t Ducky. He needed Tim to get out of this alive, but he wasn’t sure it would happen with the bullet wound festering in his stomach. He knew little about medicine but he did know that stomach wounds could be fatal; there were a lot of organs and a lot of potential ways to die. Infection, bleeding out, organ damage. Unpleasant ways to die, and Tim was far too young to go. 

As the paramedics loaded Tim in the ambulance Gibbs pulled Tony aside to tell him to go with Tim. He was to be there as a guard in case any of Flores’ accomplices wished to get revenge. It was unlikely but Gibbs knew that Tony would be useless for the rest of the day as Tim lay in a hospital bed. He climbed in the ambulance, taking hold of the unconscious man’s hand. 

“He’s gonna be okay, right?” he asked the paramedic shutting the door to the ambulance.

The paramedic nodded her head, although her eyes betrayed her, telling Tony that at best she was unsure.   
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tony sat alone, his head was in his hands. The white plastic chair digging into him, a reminder that he hated hospitals. The plague, friends dying and injured, his failure with Jeanne, nothing ever good happened in hospitals. 

It was terrible not knowing. Doctors and nurses passed him, sympathy in their eyes as they saw him play with the wedding ring on his finger. One of the nurses that hadn’t been told that Tim was a federal agent had patted his knee and told him that she was sure his husband would be fine. It hadn’t made him feel any better.

He was close to crying, something that he’d held out on as paramedics and doctors surrounded him. He hadn’t been allowed into Tim’s room as soon as he admitted that they weren’t married, just working undercover. His eyes brimmed with tears which threatened to spill over until he was interrupted by the smacking of biker boots against the cold hard floor of hospital corridors. He looked up to see Abby, paler than usual and dressed in the usual Gothic attire, running towards him.

"Tony,Tony, Tony." She chanted, ignoring Ducky and Palmer who walked behind her. Gibbs and Ziva were nowhere to be seen, probably still in interrogation with Flores, or out arresting accomplices. He was sure they'd come later when they were not busy with their latest arrest.

Tony stood up meeting Abby in the middle of the waiting room. He wrapped his arms around her, tucking his face into her neck, he could feel the tears silently dripping down his face but in that moment he didn't care. He had always been somewhat jealous of the relationship between Abby and McGee. They were best friends and had dated, most at NCIS were convinced that at some point they would get back together, get married, and have kids. With McGee in a hospital bed, not knowing what was happening he needed to hold Tim's best friend. Hug someone who felt some of what he was feeling.

He lifted his head, his body still close to Abby's. She looked up at him, seeing the evidence of his tears on his face. She squeezed him tightly to her before stepping away.

"Is Timmy okay?" She asked.

Ducky and Palmer were now both beside her, waiting for news of Tim. None of them mentioned the tears staining his face. He was greatful for that, now was not the time for one of Palmer's infamous lapses of judgement. Tony shrugged his shoulders, in no doubt that his face was picture of pathetic hopelessness. 

Ducky leant forward, patting Tony's arm in a comforting manner. "He's at a good hospital in plenty of time, Tony. He'll be fine." Abby and Palmer nodded along to Ducky's words, all of them focused on comforting Tony. The three of them had always been the more intuitive of the staff at the agency. Although at the moment Tony was not being as subtle as he had trained himself to be.

A doctor came out of Tim's room, her hair was pinned back, pens neatly placed in the top pocket of the white coat she wore, a clipboard was clutched to her chest, a polite smile painted on her face. The picture of professionalism.

"Agent McGee is in a stable condition and is awake, you can go see him if you like." 

Both Abby and Tony strode towards the door before Palmer grabbed hold of Abby's wrist.

"We should let Tony go in first." Tony made a mental note to be much nicer to the Autopsy Gremlin in future. He nodded to him in thanks. It was obvious that he and Ducky were aware of Tony's feeling towards the other agent.

The room was the standard hospital white, the sterile smell of the room made Tony wrinkle his nose. Tim was silent and still in the hospital bed, which Tony knew from experience was uncomfortable to an extreme. Tony walked up to him, sitting in the chair next to Tim's head. He wanted to take the younger agents hand, but with him now conscious his bravery failed him. 

"Hey McInjury. How's the bullet wound?" He tried to sound humourous but even to him his voice was heavy and pained.

Tim chuckled but winced, his whole body seemed to feel it, Tony pressed his hand against Tim's shoulder to try and steady him.

"Hey Tony." His voice sounded weak, but he was smiling up at Tony. "I'll live. They've got the bullet out and it missed my major organs. They're keeping me under observation in case the wound becomes infected but I'm okay. Lucky, I guess."

Tony nodded, he hasn't moved his hand from Tim's shoulder, his finger was pressed against bare skin. Neither of them dared mention it and let the contact cease. 

"Thanks for saving my life." Tony said, it was the first time he'd thought about it. Tim attempted to wrestle the gun out of Flores' hand to save Tony's life. It was a move unauthorised by the agency, risky and far too brave. Tim should have let Flores kill him. 

"Don't mention it. I'll always be there for you." 

Tim moved his head slightly, wincing as he did so, to get a better look at Tony's left hand. "Youre still wearing our wedding ring." Neither mentioned that it wasn't really their wedding ring, they'd never had a wedding, they'd never even kissed as Tim and Tony, only as Christopher and Robert.

"Sorry." Tony moved his hand to take off the ring, before Tim moved quickly, the effort showing on his face. He held Tony's hand, keeping it steady and not letting him remove the ring.

"Keep it. Please."


	6. Chapter 6

It was then when Palmer and Ducky let Abby into Tim’s hospital room. They followed her, standing back. As doctors they were a little more respective of a patient’s personal space, even if their usual patients weren’t too fussy on overcrowding issues. Abby grabbed Tim’s hand, as excitable as ever to see her best friend.

“Timmy, I’m so glad you’re okay! When Ziva told me you were shot I thought you’d died. What are you doing wrestling guns from megalomaniacal murderers, McGee?” Her voice was loud, not a surprise, and despite it being a little hard on the ears of the injured agent it didn’t mean that Tim didn’t want her there. Tim adored the woman, he had been enamoured by her from the moment he had met her, and now, years after they had broken up, he loved her just as much. Although now it was love in the platonic sense, he couldn’t imagine being in love with her anymore. That was saved for the other agent in the room.

“I think what Abby is trying to say,” Ducky was a calming voice in a room full of all sorts of tension, whether it romantic or platonic. “Is that we are all glad that you have escaped relatively unscathed after tackling our suspect.” His voice sounded slightly disproving but Tim knew that no one in the room was particularly mad at him, scared for him maybe but not upset. They’d rather him in this hospital bed with a bullet wound in his stomach than for Tony to be lying in the morgue. Tim would rather be lying under Ducky’s scalpel than for the same to happen to Tony. 

Tony’s hand was still clutched in Tim’s hand and he wondered why no one had mentioned it. Abby and Jimmy were not known for their subtlety but Tim suspected that everyone in the room knew that something had happened between Tim and Tony. Even if he didn’t quite know what that was. Something had definitely changed between them; hopefully something for the better. Tim had liked DiNozzo for a while now. The teasing and prodding had sent him into a frenzy, like a high schooler with a crush. He’d always known his type and it was a broad type. If someone could make him laugh and was liberal when it came to physical affection then Tim was bound to fall for them. Tony ticked both those boxes. He wasn’t entirely sure when he’d started seeing Tony as more than his friend, or the Senior Field Agent who teased him at every opportunity. All he’d known was that it was with increasing frequency that a smile from Tony could make his day, standing a little too close to him could make his week. Over the past few days he’d figured that maybe those feelings were not so one-sided as he had previously thought.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The small group had spent an hour or two talking, cramped up in a little room only really designed for a hospital bed and a couple of doctors and nurses. They had talked about everything and nothing, just as they tended to do when they went to the local bar. They were joined by Ziva half an hour in, looking tired but bringing news that Flores had confessed to his crimes, and that audio evidence from the crime scene was enough to put him away for life.

“We are keeping him in for questioning, he wants a deal to give away ‘accomplices’ but they are really just people who worked under him.” Her exhaustion was evident by her Israeli accent becoming heavier than usual. 

Other than that the topic of Flores was, by silent agreement, ignored. Despite the obvious surroundings no one really wanted to be reminded that they had nearly lost McGee. They were fine deluding themselves that it was a routine injury for an agent, not one that could have easily meant the loss of another of their team. 

Tony and Tim had not dropped each other’s hands in all the time that they had been sat together in the hospital room. Ziva had noticed, frowning at the clasped hands. The crease between her eyebrows only deepened as she spied the golden band on Tony’s wedding finger. The one that matched the one on the bedside table that the doctors had insisted Tim remove. Most agents would have removed anything that showed they had been working undercover by now. She was silent on the subject, preferring to draw her own conclusions than be upfront about her suspicions.

It was when Tim yawned, and they all realised that it was drawing close to midnight that Ducky insisted they leave McGee to his rest. Tony stood to leave but did not make another move until the other three had left. 

“Tim...”

“Tony...” They started at the same time, chuckling. Their hands were no longer entwined and they both missed the contact.

Tim stayed silent wanting to let Tony talk.

“I..” Tony huffed out a sigh, not sure how he was going to say this. Not sure how he was going to break down nearly forty years of being firmly closeted. 12 years of loving the same man and doing nothing about it. 10 years of hating the reaction when he’d kissed a transwoman but not being brave enough to ever say ‘no, she wasn’t a man and I don’t care even if she was.’ Here he was, about to break it all down. “Tim, I think.. no I know… and this isn’t a joke and not just because of the last couple of days but… I’m in love with you.”

It was a garbled mess, years of his own hidden desires making any eloquence he possessed disappear. The words were said, and he couldn’t take them back, but Tim wasn’t screaming at him or mocking him. There was a look in his eye that could be reciprocation. 

Tim grinned, fighting the tiredness that his whole body felt with a wave of energy that Tony’s words had brought him.

“I love you too, Tony. I have for a while now.” He yawned, ruining the almost romcom-esque scene. 

Tony grinned in return, the swirling anxieties in his stomach stopping as he registered what Tim had said. 

“Uh, I should let you get some sleep. To heal, yeah.” He was grinning, and not really caring that his sentences didn’t make much sense. He leant down, pressing his lips against Tim’s forehead. 

“Goodnight, Tony.” Tim said, his voice sounded tired but his eyes glistened with the confirmation that his feelings were returned. 

“‘Night, Probie.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gibbs always left the door unlocked when he was home. No one in his neighbourhood was stupid enough to try and rob from him and anyone from out of town would be met with a gun in the small of their back. He spent most of the time that he was home in his basement, rarely slept. He hated being in the house, it reminded him too much of Shannon and Kelly. He tortured himself and all of his ex wives by staying in the house but he refused to move.

The basement was his safe place, he stayed there because it was a place where he could build his boats in peace. People that he allowed down there were the ones he was closest too, they came down for safety or help and he’d never deny them it. 

Tony’s footsteps against the wooden stairs were no surprise. With McGee in hospitals and the closeness of the two evident to anyone who had been around them, it had only been a matter of time until Tony confronted his boss.

“I’ve been waiting for you.” Gibbs said softly, the words could have been confrontational, but Gibbs had perfected talking to people, helping them with his problems. It was his own he could never sort out. 

“Yeah, I guessed that. Why haven’t you been to see McGee?” Tony asked, avoiding the talk he knew he needed to have with Gibbs. 

“It was late, and the two of you needed time to talk.”

Tony nodded, bracing himself against a wall for the oncoming conversation. “You know why I’m here then.”

Gibbs continued sanding the skeleton of the boat he was working on, only pausing briefly to pour two bourbons. “You want to know about Rule 12.” 

“Never date a coworker.” Tony said. “I know about Rule 12. I’m just here to tell you that I’m going to break it.” He fixed his eyes on Gibbs, he wasn’t entirely confident on this move. Everything was rushing so fast but Gibbs’ rules weren’t going to get in the way of him and McGee. If he had to leave the team he would, he had offers to head up his own team and although he didn’t want to do that he would if Gibbs made him choose. Gibbs had broken his own rules before and he would probably break his own rules again but Tony wanted to tear this one down completely.

“I know, DiNozzo. You and McGee, it’s been a long time coming.” He took a sip of his bourbon. He didn’t know why his team questioned him anymore, he found out everything one way or another and if he had a problem he’d tell them rather than wait for them to come to him. 

“You’re not gonna make me choose between McGee and staying with the team?” Tony asked.

“If I made you and McGee break up would it make you love him any less? Would you not dive in front of a bullet for him because I told you that you couldn’t be together?” Gibbs asked knowing the answer, and raising an eyebrow at him. 

“Well, no. You’re okay with this boss?” 

Gibbs nodded. “Just don’t do something stupid like break up. You two are good together, don’t mess it up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was really excited to write this chapter so its up only a few hours after chapter 5. I'm not a 100% happy with the last scene in Gibbs' basement so I would love some feedback.


	7. Chapter 7

Despite his serious injury, Tim was allowed out of the hospital within days of his arrival. The doctors at the Bethesda Naval Hospital had given him strict instructions for rest and told him he would not be able to work in the field for at least a year, using a wheelchair for half of that. To the usually active agent it felt like a jail sentence.

Jimmy picked him up from the hospital; no one else's vehicle could accommodate the clunky chair that Tim now possessed. He seemed excited, bouncing around on the edge of his seat as if he was on the verge of telling McGee some big secret. Palmer wasn’t usually considered as the most talented at secrecy and Tim knew that if pushed he would be able to easily find out whatever it was Jimmy was hiding from him. He kept quiet though, uninterested in whatever it was that Palmer was bursting to say. All he wanted to do was go to his small apartment and wallow in the misery of being chained to his wheelchair for the next six months. 

The wheelchair was difficult to set up and he reluctantly needed Palmers help to make it inside. He was grateful for the first time in his life that his apartment was on the first floor. With no lift, in his building this was better than having to move in with Sarah or his parents to help him for the foreseeable future. His flat was more susceptible to break-ins on this level, but at least it was wheelchair accessible. 

Jimmy was making noises of excitement once more as he wheeled Tim towards his door. He opened it without a key and McGee was immediately suspicious, Abby was the only one with a spare key. All he really wanted to do was get used to moving around his flat without bumping into anything. 

Behind the door stood his friends. Even Gibbs had been seemingly forced to attend the gathering. His bad mood washed away at the sight of Tony draped across his sofa with a grin on his face as if he belonged there; which perhaps he did. 

“Welcome home, Timmy!” Abby ran over, her heels clacking on the wooden floor. She bent over to hug him. He hugged back, careful not to stretch too much, his stomach and back still tender. He had been lucky that the bullet had gone straight through, missing his organs. An inch either way and he’d be in one of Ducky’s fridges. 

“I’ve only been gone a few days.” he laughed.

Moving himself from his chair to the sofa, he smiled softly at Tony who slung his feet across McGee’s lap, careful to keep his legs away from his torso. The exit wound hurt whenever his back pressed too firmly against something but he didn’t much mind as he sat among his friends and the man he loved. 

“When are you back to work, McGee?” Gibbs asked, struggling not to look proud of the two men in front of him. 

“Couple of weeks. Won’t be allowed in the field for at least a year if ever.”  
Ducky patted his shoulder reassuringly.

“I’m sure you’ll be ready in no time. I will train you.” Ziva offered, leaning against the door frame. 

Tim shuddered. On the rare occasions he had trained with Ziva, the experience had left him exhausted, battered and bruised. As much as he wanted to get back into field duty, training with an ex-assassin such as Ziva might just kill him off. 

“Calm down Ziva.” Tony pronounced the syllable of her name with a pop. “He’s just been shot. We don’t want to finish him off just yet.”

Ziva smirked before clicking her fingers with a grin on her face as if she had just discovered a big secret. She pointed at the two agents sat on the sofa together. “I have just realised why the two of you have been acting so odd lately. You are…” she waved a hand around as if searching for the right word. “Together? Yes?” 

Tim met Tony’s eyes, he looked questionably at him, raising his eyebrow slightly. Tim had no qualms about being open about his sexuality and his relationship but wasn’t certain about Tony. Their relationship was so new and they had not yet discussed being open about it. Bar a few kisses when Tony had visited him at the hospital, their relationship was nothing much at all. Ziva questioning them was not something that Tim felt prepared for.

Tony grinned at Tim and then at Ziva. He reached for Tim’s hand, linking their fingers together. Tim immediately relaxed, melting into Tony’s side. 

“Yeah we are, yeah.” Tony said. 

Those around them had nothing much to say, a muttered ‘About time, my boys’ from Ducky and a slightly overexcited Abby making almost incomprehensible noises was all that was said on the matter. A comfortable silence was the agreement that the relationship was welcomed. Tim sat amongst them smiling as he leant into Tony, hands still clasped. Surprisingly contented for someone with a bullet wound. He could see only happiness in his future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little short but that is where the story has decided to end. It's now complete and I hope you have all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. A review would make my day even if you're reading this years after I've published it.


End file.
